


Not Idle with Despair

by subjunctive



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: Desk Sex, F/M, POV Laura Roslin, Post-Coital, Season 1
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-24
Updated: 2020-03-24
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:41:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23297209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/subjunctive/pseuds/subjunctive
Summary: "Sorry, Madam President. When you said--"She holds up one hand, and with the other pulls a lock of hair away from her mouth. "I recall. Something aboutshow me how a Viper pilot fraks the President of the Twelve Colonies, or some such nonsense. Sex makes fools of us all, it seems."
Relationships: Lee "Apollo" Adama/Laura Roslin
Comments: 9
Kudos: 15





	Not Idle with Despair

**Author's Note:**

> The title is adapted from Jewel's "Hands."

Lee comes just after she does, as magnificently controlled as he ever is, with only a hitch in his breath and a deep sigh as his thrusts slow and then stop. She lets go of the edge of the desk; her hands are imprinted with the force of her grip, so she rubs them together briskly.

Post-coital clarity leaves him embarrassed. "Sorry, Madam President. When you said--"

She holds up one hand, and with the other pulls a lock of hair away from her mouth. "I recall. Something about _show me how a Viper pilot fraks the President of the Twelve Colonies_ , or some such nonsense. Sex makes fools of us all, it seems." She smiles to take any edge off her words. 

Papers on her desk stick to her as she half-rises, and Lee peels them off her apologetically. The whole silly thing is worth a laugh or two, so she does, and Lee joins her, more self-consciously.

He looks around. It takes her a moment to realize what he's looking for. "Tissue?" she offers, reaching behind herself to open a desk drawer.

"Ah. I thought you might be out. There are shortages across the fleet." When she hands him one, he cleans himself up, and her too, considerate as always.

Laura slides the drawer shut. "That's why I'm hiding mine away. You might be surprised how many people come into my office and end up crying. Or perhaps it's not surprising."

"No, sir, not really." He holds her hands as she rocks forward until her feet touch the ground.

Upright, she can adjust her clothing and return to a semblance of professionalism. After a minute or two, everything has been set to rights, and the only reminder of their affair is the smell of sex permeating the office. She doesn't know what she's going to do when she runs out of air fresheners. Surely by then the affair will have run its course.

She reminds herself, as she does from time to time with a sense of obligation, that it would be wise to end this. There are a number of ways it could become complicated--personally, professionally, politically. It already is, of course; that's why they do this here, unlike the rest of the fleet, who are permitted to have their tawdry, life-affirming sexual affairs without the potential for scandal and in locations with beds. 

"How do I look?" she asks instead.

Lee points to the corner of his mouth. When she glances in a mirror and sees the smear of lipstick, she sighs.

"You too," she calls after him as he leaves, his grin not quite covered by the dark sleeve he rubs over his mouth.

Yes, she should end it. But maybe not quite yet.

Fools indeed.


End file.
